


Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas

by a_colourful_stranger



Series: Kairos 'Verse [2]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Jealous Arthur, M/M, Merry Christmas Everyone!, also takes place before my other story on here 'la douleur exquise', anyway, hint: it's morgana, it's lowkey ooc but idec, lancelot is a good best friend, so uther is still alive and kicking, some merwaine if you squint, surprise guest at the end, takes place between series 3 and 4
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-04
Updated: 2018-01-04
Packaged: 2019-02-28 04:24:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13263636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_colourful_stranger/pseuds/a_colourful_stranger
Summary: The Christmas before Merlin’s banishment was the best he’d ever spent in Camelot. After so much, he and Arthur were able to relax and forget about the stress laying beyond Arthur’s chamber doors. (Takes place prior to La Douleur Exquise but can be read on its own.)





	Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys! If you're a reader from my other story, La Douleur Exquise, let me start off by saying that I apologise for not updating LDE in over a year. Life sucks man, but I hope this short one-shot soothes the pain a bit. I have no real excuse, other than school and life in general, but I do sincerely apologise for the lack of an update. 
> 
> Anyway, this was supposed to be posted before Christmas but things didn't go as planned and I was in mourning for most of the Christmas season. It's better late than never, eh? 
> 
> I hope you enjoy :)

The snow fell softly against his shoulders as he sat on the steps of the citadel. The cobblestoned courtyard was covered in a fresh layer of snow and the city was eerily quiet. Most of the citizens were bundled up beside their fireplaces struggling to stay warm in the sudden bout of cold weather they’d been receiving. Though, in Merlin’s memory, every winter was like this in Camelot but with each passing year people complained no matter what.

He was the only one outside, he’d been sitting on the steps for so long that if he stood there would be no snow in his place. He’d escaped from the confines of the citadel about an hour ago, after Arthur went to have dinner with his father, and Gwaine tried to twist his arm into joining him at the tavern. He’d declined politely saying, “I’m not really in the mood tonight,” and Gwaine replied, “That’s the best time to go, my friend.”

He folded his arms across his chest, trying to salvage what heat he had left in his cloak. With no one around, he whispered out a quiet spell to warm the chill settling down in his bones. If someone were to ask him why he was outside if he was so cold, what would he even say? That he was trying to escape from the chaotic hell of the citadel? That he wanted to get away from his responsibilities, if only for an hour?

Christmas was a hectic time for him, especially this year. Uther was unable to host the Christmas festivities that generally went on, so Arthur was in charge – meaning _Merlin_ was in charge. He had feasts to plan, speeches to write and robes to clean. He was so tired—he could be using this time to catch up on sleep, but instead he’s brooding on the steps of the castle.

“Merlin?” he heard from the doors behind him.

He sighed, his breath leaving a cloud in front of him, “Yes?”

“Arthur is looking for you,” Lancelot said as he joined Merlin on the steps. The snow crunched beneath his boots. “Why are you out here?”

“It’s quiet,” Merlin answered and Lancelot nodded slowly. “Why is Arthur looking for me? He’s supposed to be with Uther.”

“I don’t know,” Lancelot replied, “he wasn’t with the king when I saw him. He was in the kitchens.”

“What?” Merlin’s back straightened slightly, “What was he doing there?”

“Once again, I don’t know,” Lancelot held out his hand and helped Merlin stand up. The knight brushed off the snow piling on Merlin’s shoulders, “Come on,” and he started back up the stairs.

“Where are we going?” Merlin followed him despite himself.

“You have so many questions tonight, Merlin,” Lancelot chuckled and looked back at him. There was a strange glint in his eyes and it made Merlin even more confused. Lancelot knew something that Merlin did not. “We’re going inside and standing by a fire place, you are frozen and if Arthur hears that you were sitting out in the freezing cold he will have my head.”

That was true. Arthur was very adamant that Merlin was to never be outside in the cold – not after what happened in the summer. He made sure to give Merlin an extra blanket if they were outside for the night and that he wore extra clothes. And if Arthur wasn’t around to check, the other knights made sure they gave Merlin their cloaks if he even showed any signs of shivering. They were all very protective of him.

Lancelot led him up the stairs towards the royal chambers, which puzzled Merlin. Why were they here? If they were going to stand by a fire, he thought it would be in the knights’ quarters or in Lancelot’s chambers.

“Are you ready for Christmas?” Lancelot asked as they walked down the long corridor.

“I don’t even want to think about it,” Merlin mumbled, “there is still so much to do.”

“Well, maybe tonight you can relax a bit,” Lancelot said with the same glint in his eyes.

Merlin stopped, “Why do you keep looking at me like that?”

The knight smirked, “What do you mean?”

“Where is Arthur?”

“I told you, I don’t know—” Lancelot was cut off by Merlin smacking his arm. Lancelot laughed, “I’m being honest, I don’t—”

“Do not lie to me, Lancelot,” Merlin glared. “Where is he?”

For a moment, there was a silent battle between them. Lancelot was not backing down but Merlin lit up his eyes for a moment – a minor spell that only flickered a torch near them – but Lancelot caught the movement. The knight groaned, “You can’t tell him I told you.”

“What is it?”

“When you go into his chambers, he’s… Uh,” Lancelot rubbed the back of his head, “he’s got a dinner ready for you.”

Merlin’s heart beat hard against his chest, “Excuse me?”

Lancelot smiled softly, “Go see for yourself. He really cares about you, Merlin. He went all out for you.”

Lancelot was the only one that knew about his and Arthur’s… situation. Merlin knew they could trust him, Arthur trusted no one – other than Merlin – more than Lancelot and Merlin had the same sentiments, after all Lancelot hadn’t told a soul about his magic.

Merlin’s eyes flickered to Arthur’s chamber doors only a few feet away, “Why?”

“Do you even have to ask that, Merlin?” Lancelot asked him, “Listen, just go in there. He may be an ass sometimes, but he can always see when you’re overworked – which you are. No one is going to come looking for you all night. I made sure of that.”

The sorcerer wet his lips, “You didn’t have to do this.”

“After the year we all had? You two deserve to relax with one another. Now stop talking to me, go see your prince.”

At Lancelot’s words, Merlin’s stomach flipped. His prince. Arthur was his prince. His future king. There was no one else on this earth he’d rather spend his evening with. He thanked Lancelot, who backed away slowly and nodded for Merlin to go in.

Slowly, he pushed on the two doors and he immediately felt a change. Rather than the chill that had found a home in the halls of the citadel, it was so warm that Merlin felt he could fall asleep by just standing there. Arthur was across the room by the fireplace, he looked the same as he did when Merlin last saw him when he was going to Uther’s room; except for the soft grin playing on his lips.

“Good evening,” Arthur said quietly. He was nervous, Merlin could tell. If it weren’t for his knowledge of the night to come, Merlin would have been concerned. He and Arthur had been together since the summer. They’d spent many a night together and Arthur had never been nervous.

“Hi,” Merlin smiled, he shut the doors behind him and latching them shut. Before he could turn back around, Arthur was behind him. Arthur slid his arms around Merlin’s waist and pulled him against him, “You’re friendly tonight.”

“I missed you,” Arthur whispered into his shoulder.

“You saw me a few hours ago,” Merlin rested in his arms, his eyes fluttered shut.

“That was different,” Arthur moved so he could kiss Merlin’s neck gently, “we’ve been so busy… I feel like I haven’t seen you in weeks.”

They stood there for a few minutes, Arthur kissing his neck and Merlin letting it happen. Arthur wasn’t doing it to start anything, he would be doing it differently if he was. The prince was trying to ground himself, Merlin thought, to bring him back to this world that was just the two of them.

“I’ve brought you dinner,” Arthur pulled away slightly, “have you eaten?”

“No. I haven’t had the time,” Merlin regretted his words when Arthur winced.

“I am sorry,” Arthur said, Merlin turned and saw pain on Arthur’s face. “I know this year has been busier than usual. With my father—”

“You don’t need to apologise, Arthur, it isn’t your fault. You know that.” Merlin cupped Arthur’s cheek and rubbed his thumb along his cheekbone. He changed the subject, “What did you bring for dinner?”

Arthur motioned to the table not too far from where they stood. The dinner, though it was the size of feast, consisted of all sorts of holiday foods. From cakes, to puddings, to roast chickens and geese, and more bread than Merlin had ever seen at the annual Christmas feast. Arthur sat them down so they were seated next to each other, he preferred it that way over seating at different sides of the table. He once said it made it feel like a dinner he was at against his will.

While they ate, Merlin noticed Arthur was still nervous. His hands fumbled with the cuff of his sleeve and they were shaking slightly, to the point he spilt some wine on the table as he poured Merlin a cup. “Are you okay?” Merlin asked him at one point.

Arthur’s eyes shot up to his, his mask of faux confidence faltered and Merlin saw the raw nervousness going on in the prince’s head, “I’m fine,” he lied. He almost got after Arthur for not talking to him. One of the main things in their relationship was to talk to each other when something was wrong. The night they first kissed, Merlin had gotten after Arthur for keeping things bottled up.

He didn’t though. Not tonight. If Arthur was nervous, there was something on his mind and he trusted Arthur. He would tell him if he wanted to, if not, Merlin would pry it out of him later. 

The prince cleared his throat, “So, h-how did you celebrate Christmas with your mother? I don’t think I have ever asked.”

Merlin swallowed the bite of chicken he had been chewing, “We didn’t do much. We sat together near the fire trying to stay warm. The winters are even more unforgiving in Ealdor than they are here,” Arthur raised an eyebrow as if he didn’t believe him, “it’s true! I thought my toes would fall off most winters. It was awful…” he sighed, “but I enjoyed Christmas. Mum would knit me something usually, unless we had some gold left over from something, then she’d ask someone heading into town to get me something like a trinket.” He shrugged and leaned back in his chair, “Sometimes Will would join us. His father wasn’t the greatest, so mum let him stay over. It was nice.”

Arthur placed his arm on the back of Merlin’s chair, his fingers brushed by Merlin’s shoulder, “When I was young,” Arthur began, “we would have feasts and banquets, much like now. Except, at night when the noblemen and ladies would continue on drinking, I would have to go to bed. I couldn’t sleep though,” he said thoughtfully, “I wanted to be with everyone else. I didn’t think it was fair.”

He laughed, “Now you can’t wait to get out of there.”

“Yes,” Arthur smiled, “but back then, I wanted to be there celebrating with the adults. I-I felt so left out, I started to cry… Just when I thought the tears would never stop, my chamber doors opened and it was my father. He’d snuck out of the feast to see me. He set up a fur blanket near the fireplace and we laid there together.”

Merlin looked to the prince, “What did you talk about?”

“Anything really. I liked it, because we weren’t the king and the prince of Camelot. We were just a son and a father celebrating Christmas together,” Arthur let out a breath, “we stopped doing that when I got a bit older. What with having more responsibilities and taking part in the festivities, we never had the time.”

The tension changed in the room, Merlin could see sadness cloud in Arthur’s eyes. He reached up, cupping Arthur’s cheek, “He’ll get better. It just takes time.”

“I know,” Arthur sighed, he looked softly into Merlin’s eyes, “I love you.”

He smiled, “I love you too,” slowly Arthur leaned in and they kissed gently.

Merlin realised as their lips met one another that it had been some time since they last kissed without worrying about someone coming in or being interrupted. Even at night when it was just the two of them, there was still a fear neither would voice that someone would barge into Arthur’s chambers and find them. It would naïve of them to not feel that fear right now, Lancelot could only do so much if something happened.

He pulled away and rested his forehead against Arthur’s, “Thank you for dinner,” he whispered. Arthur breathed in anxiously and Merlin pulled back even more, “Arthur?”

“T-There’s more,” Arthur swallowed, “I have more for you,” he got up and crossed the room to his bedside table. Merlin’s eyes followed him as he moved about the room. He watched as Arthur pulled a box from under the bed, and he briefly wondered how he hadn’t noticed it when he was cleaning this morning. Arthur came back to him holding the box, it was made of wood and had a piece of twined tied on top with a bow. Arthur shoved it towards him, “This if for you.”

Merlin eyed it carefully, “This is for me?”

“Yeah. I had it made a few weeks ago, s-so that if you heard about it or something, you’d forget about it by the time Christmas came along,” Arthur shifted on his feet nervously.

Slowly, Merlin took the box from Arthur and laid it down on the table, “What is it?” he asked.

“Open it,” Arthur had the hint of a smile going but his nervousness masked it.

Merlin pulled on the twine and it slipped open. He lifted the lid of the box and inside laid a piece of crimson red fabric. Gently, he picked up the fabric and pulled it out. It was a neckerchief, a Pendragon red neckerchief with the dragon crest stitched in golden thread. He let out a laugh, “It’s a neckerchief?”

Arthur blushed, “Yes. I thought you could use a new one and I wanted it to have a part of me on it.” He stared down at the neckerchief in his hands. He had never received something so meaningful, and with so much emotion behind it. “I don’t know if you’ll be able to wear it all the time, without people wondering why you’re wearing the Pendragon crest…” Arthur trailed off.

He quickly pulled off the blue one he was wearing and stood up, holding out the new neckerchief for Arthur to take. Arthur was puzzled before he caught on and slid it around Merlin’s neck. Merlin held his breath as he watched Arthur focus on tying the knot. His stunning blue eyes were furrowed in concentration. Suddenly, they shifted so they were looking directly into Merlin’s eyes and the prince spoke, “You’re perfect.”

Merlin placed his hands on Arthur’s chest, he could feel the warmth of his skin through the fabric, “Thank you, Arthur.”

“You’re welcome,” Arthur pecked him on the lips and he placed his hands on Merlin’s hips, “I wish there was a way for it to be like this. For you to be at my side, as my equal, rather than hidden away as my manservant. I want people to know that it is you that I love.”

“One day,” Merlin murmured. “One day we can stop… having Lancelot guard the door and we can be in here without worrying.”

“I want that,” Arthur shifted closer, “but I suppose, this is fine for now.” He fingered the neckerchief, “There’s more. I did more for you.”

“Why?” Merlin found himself asking, “Why did you do all of this for me?”          

Arthur chuckled, “This is the bare minimum, you know? I could have done so much more but I don’t like you enough for grand gestures.”

“You’re an ass.”

Arthur only smirked and pulled him away from the table with their still steaming food. Merlin let himself be dragged until they reached Arthur’s bedside. “Get into bed,” Arthur said in a gentle voice. “I’ll be right back.”

As Merlin toes off his boots and lifts his shirt over his head – leaving the neckerchief on – he sees Arthur go to his chamber doors and opens it, careful to keep them closed just enough. He can hear Arthur and Lancelot whispering to one another, at one point Lancelot laughed, and Arthur glanced back in the room with a blush rising on his cheeks. He watched as Arthur prepared to the shut the door but a call from outside stopped him in his tracks.

“ _MERLIIIIN!_ ” Gwaine bellowed from down the hall. “I know you’re in there, Merls, come on out let’s go out in the snow!”

“Gwaine, you’re piss drunk, go to sleep,” Lancelot’s voice rose in warning.

“Mmm, nope,” Gwaine was at the door now because he shouted, “Evening, Sire, how are you? Where’s Merlin?”

“He’s not here,” Arthur was tense, “I don’t know where he is. If you find him, let me know, he has work to do.”  

“It’s almost bloody Christmas, give him a break,” Gwaine slurred, “he’s a good boy and you treat him like shit sometimes. It’s not right. He deserves better than your bullshit everyday. He needs someone that isn’t goin’ to get mad at him for using the wrong polish for his boots.”

“Gwaine…” Lancelot sighed.

“J-Just let him go, Arthur,” Merlin laid down on the bed and let his eyes fall shut. “Let him go and let someone who actually appreciates him have him. C-Come on, Arthur, he’s too good for you—”

“Be quiet,” Arthur’s voice was stern and at the sound of it Merlin reopened his eyes. “I am going to excuse everything you have just said on the account of you being drunk. However, if I ever hear you say anything like that again I will have you punished.”

“Punished? For what? Saying that you’re a total fucking asshole to Merlin—”

“Get some sleep, Gwaine,” Arthur began to shut the door, “goodnight.” The door shut and Arthur slammed his head against the oak, before he glanced over his shoulder at Merlin. “Gwaine is wondering where you are.”

“I heard,” Merlin sat up.

The prince barred the door shut, what with Gwaine still chirping about in the hallway, before he took off his shirt and joined Merlin across the room in bed. He crawled into Merlin’s lap and applied enough pressure until Merlin was laying down. “I am sorry about that,” Arthur hovered over him.

“It’s just Gwaine,” Merlin shrugged.

Arthur leaned down and began kissing softly at Merlin’s neck, “He’s a nuisance.”

“It’s just Gwaine,” he repeated and he felt Arthur’s groan against where he was kissing at his collarbone. “What?”

“He ruined the night,” Arthur sighed in defeat and fell beside Merlin on the bed. “I didn’t expect to have Gwaine pissed and yelling at me when I could have been in here with you.”

“Arthur, he didn’t ruin anything,” he quickly rolled onto his side and forced Arthur to look at him. “This night has been perfect. Don’t let Gwaine get to you. He’s an ass. A drunk ass. Whereas _you_ , are sweet and I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Arthur said.

He didn’t lay down just yet, and instead watched Arthur thoughtfully. There was something hidden beneath those eyes. There was always something beneath them. He loved them. He loved _Arthur_. “I love you,” he repeated and Arthur said nothing this time. The blond raised his head off of his pillow and brushed his lips against Merlin’s. As Arthur’s tongue swept along his bottom lip, he spoke, “He’s wrong, you know?”

“What?”

“Gwaine. He’s wrong. You are good to me,” Merlin said.

“Stop talking about Gwaine,” Arthur groaned. “He isn’t important.”

“You are so good to me. You organised this dinner, you had this neckerchief made… Yes, you are a bit of a prat when it’s not just the two of us but you do that because you are good to me.” He pet Arthur’s hair, “Do you remember what you did when I was cursed?”’

“Tell me.”  

He wet his lips, “You were so concerned about me but you didn’t say a word. You didn’t say anything until you took me hunting and you started telling me about how I was your best friend and how you would never forgive yourself if I’d died—”

“It’s true,” Arthur interjected.

“ _Anyway_ , when it got really bad and I-I was dying… You saved me,” he sighed wistfully. “You saved me and then you wouldn’t leave me alone for weeks because you are good. You are so _fucking_ good, Arthur— _Arthur!_ ”

Arthur flipped them over suddenly, pinning Merlin beneath him and had his lips only a millimeter away from Merlin’s, “You are going to be the death of me.”

“That would be unfortunate—killing you on Christmas. I am sure I would receive a letter thanking me from Morgana,” he puckered his lips just to get a feel of Arthur’s against his.

“Mm, never talk about Morgana while we’re in bed,” Arthur nuzzled his nose, but still did not kiss him. “Or anyone for that matter, other than me.”

Merlin let out a laugh, “Not even Gaius? Talking about his potions doesn’t get you in the mood?”

“ _Mer_ lin,” it sounded as if Arthur growled, “please be quiet.”

A sigh left Merlin’s lips, “You said earlier there was something more. What is it?”

The prince groaned again, “It was nothing.”

“Arthur.”

“It was not _this_ ,” Arthur finally kissed him, leaving no argument for what _this_ was. They laid in bed for a long time. Kissing, grabbing at each other and stifling moans against each other’s mouths, until Arthur pulled away. His lips were red and swollen, shining slightly. “I-I wanted to lay in bed with you. Not doing anything, just laying under the covers talking. It is stupid, I realise, when we could be doing _this_ instead.”

“No, it isn’t stupid,” Merlin quickly shoved Arthur off of him and climbed under the blankets. “Come on then,” Merlin said when Arthur sat there doing nothing. A moment later, Arthur and he were both under the blankets. Merlin had his head resting on Arthur’s chest, listening to his echoing heartbeat. Arthur had his hand slowly running up and down Merlin’s back. It was comforting, that they could go from _that_ to doing nothing but enjoying each other’s company.

“What did you get me for Christmas?” Arthur asked into the quiet room.

Merlin pursed his lips, “Isn’t my presence enough?”

He heard Arthur’s laugh rumble in his chest, “You are insufferable.”

“That’s a big word, you feeling sick?” Merlin quipped and Arthur barked out a laugh. “Want me to run and get Gaius? I think you’ve had a spell cast on you.”

“ _Stop_ talking about Gaius.”

Merlin kissed his chest, “I’ll stop talking about Gaius if you promise me that you won’t let Gwaine bother you.”

“Gwaine doesn’t bother me.”

“ _Arthur_.”

“…I promise.”

“Good boy.”

“Never call me that again.”

Merlin had no idea how much time passed as they laid there together. For a while, he thought Arthur had fallen asleep what with his breathing slowing. He settled himself down to fall asleep but the rap of Arthur’s fingers against his spine brought him back to the room. 

“Merry Christmas, Merlin,” Arthur mumbled into the room.

Merlin planted a final kiss onto Arthur’s chest, “Merry Christmas. I love you.”

“Love you, too,” Arthur shifted so he was facing Merlin and tucked Merlin under his chin. His strong arms wrapped around Merlin’s smaller frame, “more than anything.” 

* * *

When Merlin woke, he was shivering to the bone. He shifted and heard snow crunch beneath his body. He opened his eyes and saw a head of black hair in front of him. It was unruly and it hid a face paler than his own. On top of them both was a thin wool blanket, not nearly thick enough to keep them warm from the elements.

He didn’t dare sit up, he didn’t want to wake her. She deserved to rest.

He cursed himself for dreaming of that night.

It was about that time of the year. He knew that was why his subconscious conjured up that memory. He clenched his fists at his sides and anger flared beneath his skin. After nine months one would think he’d have gotten over… _him_.

As if its own accord, his hand reached up and grabbed at the red neckerchief he wore. He had tied it in such a way that it hid the golden dragon stitched into the fabric. He didn’t wear it because of _him_. He wore it because it was cold. He wore it because it was the neckerchief the night he was—it didn’t matter anymore. He wasn’t in Camelot anymore and he had more important things to deal with.

Morgana shifted beside him and her eyes flickered open, “It’s cold,” she said.

“It’s Christmas,” he replied.

She sat up, and he did the same.

“Merry Christmas, then,” she grabbed his hand and held it tight. Her hands were as cold as his.

“…Merry Christmas.”

**Author's Note:**

> Ooooooooh, what's going to happen next? Read La Douleur Exquise to find out!
> 
> Also, don't hold your breath but maybe there'll be an update by the end of January.


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